Statehood Dates
by Okapilover
Summary: Based on a headcanon I read that said the state personifications were once humans who met a tragic end on their statehood dates except Texas who was a country before they became a state. I didn't do all of the states, just New York, Louisiana, California, Alaska, and Hawaii.
1. My name was Quentin Towers

_My name was Quentin Towers…_

July 26, 1788

I was only 15, you know, when it all happened. I had a loving family consisting of my mother and father, Josephine and Frederick, and my little seven year old brother, Dristan. I remember inheriting both my brown hair and my brown eyes from my father. My mother was blonde with green eyes, and Dristan looked exactly like her. Dristan and I didn't look alike, and we didn't act alike. He was rambunctious, even for seven, who didn't care for personal space and I was the quiet one that respected others need for privacy. To say I wasn't close to my brother was an understatement. But the little twerp always made me feel guilty, because I knew he looked up to me as a role model. God, I miss him so much now.

I remember the day very clearly. It was a sunny day, with birds chirping and the like. I could have appreciated it had I not had to keep watch of Dristan. We were given the task of collecting the ingredients mother would need in order to make the feast for us and the neighbors, in celebration of New York's statehood. Everyone except one forgot it was also my birthday, and that I would be fifteen years old. The one who didn't forget, was the little twerp himself.

"Quentin, did I say happy birthday?" he said again for the possibly hundredth time that day.

"Yes, you did," I said as we reached the market square. All the merchants were yelling what they were selling and it was so _noisy, _it gave me an awful headache, "Hurry up and tell me what mother needs so we can get out of here faster!" Eager to please, Dristan recited everything mother needed, and we quickly made our way around the market gathering everything we needed, and then started towards the gates that would take us out of the deafening marketplace.

"Quentin, what do you think mother will make for desert?" I didn't answer so he offered his own, "I think she'll make cherry pie, but I'd really like it if she made those little candies that taste like heaven!"

I just sighed deeply in annoyance and ignored the kicked puppy look that now adorned my brother's face.

But that was the last thing I saw as a giant hand clamped over my eyes, and the last thing I heard was, "Quent!" as my captor knocked me out.

When I came to, my eyes shot open. I was not on the gravel street anymore, I was…well I didn't know where I was, even to this day. All I know is a giant burly man was helping himself to the food me and Dristan had bought. Wait.

"WHERE'S MY BROTHER!?" I screamed through the gag they had decidedly put on me. All the man did was quirk an eyebrow at me in amusement and nodded to the wall across from me. It was then I saw something I wish I could erase from my brain. It was Dristan, I knew that much, from his curly blond hair. What was so awful was that he was bleeding from his eye sockets. His _empty _eye sockets. His beautiful emerald eyes laid on the same table as the food the man was devouring. I knew Dristan was crying, even though no tears came out.

I would have started crying as well had three more burly men came down from the stairs. I would have charged them despite their clear advantage had I not been tied to the floor. To my horror, those three moved to my brother. Dristan's head shot up. He may not have been able to see them, but he could hear their footsteps against the marble flooring. One man, who seemed to be in charge, stared at my brother, but directed his next words to me, "You should have woken up earlier. Then we wouldn't have gotten bored and taken away his sight." Dristan was screaming bloody murder, hoping someone, anyone would hear. But the screaming soon stopped, a single gunshot took his place. I did start crying this time as Dristan's once flamboyant body went limp. I didn't stare for long, as the gun was now pointed at me now. I glared at the man who had shot it. He looked terrified himself, not believing what he had just done. 'Good,' was my last thought, as one last shot was heard.

I woke up in a bed. 'Had the bullet not been fatal? No, it went right through my skull.' Movement beside me caused me to turn my head. A man with blonde hair and blue eyes smiled at me and reached his hand out. "I'm America, and you, are now New York!"

_...on July 26, 1788, I became New York, the 11__th__ state of the United States. What's the one thing I regret? Not being the hero my brother thought I was._


	2. My name was Olive Summers

_My name was Olive Summers…_

April 30th, 1812

I was never called Olive Summers though. It was just something mama called me when we were alone in the slave quarters, it didn't even seem like a name. And April 30th was my technical birthday, but we never celebrated. I didn't keep track of how old I was in my human life. It was just picking cotton and performing…special services for Lord Sampson, day after day since I was a little girl.

I had two children, both were Lord Sampson's, but he sold them away just the same, to a man he never met, just because he was willing to give the highest bid. I didn't even get the chance to name them. I had to teach them what they had to do in order to stay alive, and then away they went, and once again all I had was mama.

My entire body adorned the bites of his whip. Especially one very brutal one that stretched along my face and swelled my right eye shut. But I didn't dare let it show that I slowed me down. That was like a horse showing its limp. It'd be dead by morning. I worked just as hard.

But then I caught sight of her. One of my little ones I had been forced to give away. I didn't know which, all I knew was she looked like me when I was younger. But I didn't say anything to her. I watched as she went to the well, got some water, and carried the pail back to wherever she had come from. She did this every single day and I loved watching her.

But someone else was desperate for my attention as well. It was mama. "Olive! Listen to me, tonight, a white girl is gonna take us away. She will take us somewhere safe, where there are no slaves. Won't that be great? Be sure you're ready. We'll leave, whether you're with us or not!"

I nodded but all I could think of was my little girl who walked by the gate each day, carrying her pail. I knew which cotton field she came from. I could get her back, and she would be my baby again. And I could name her.

That night, it was pitch black as I made my way to the cotton field my baby was from. I was so excited, thinking of all the names that would suit her, finally deciding on Ava. Once I reached the cotton field, I made my way to the building that was most likely the servant's quarters. I looked through the window and spotted Ava sleeping away from the others. I climbed through the window and made my way towards her, and shook her awake. She knew better than to scream, in case she woke her masters.

"It's okay," I whispered, "I'm your mother. I'll take you away from here and take you somewhere safe, I promise. Trust me.

Ava looked at me doubting, then gave me a short, quick nod and got up off the floor, and we made a brake for my mama and the white woman. But we had woken up the masters, and as Ava made it pass the gate and started towards Lord Sampson's land, I never made it out of the field.

As I woke up, I was confused, but relieved, because my Ava was safe with my mama, and I was apparently safe too. I turned to my right and saw a man with blue eyes and blond hair, and he said, "Hi, I'm America! And you're Louisiana now!"

_…on April 30__th__, 1812, I became Louisiana the 18__th__ state of the United States. What's the one thing I regret? Giving away my babies in the first place, and never finding the other._


	3. My name was Kalei Haiku

_My name was Kalei Haiku…_

August 21, 1959

I should be a sixty year old woman right now, but I've been a state for fifty-three years, since I was seven, and I haven't changed a bit. I'm not old and wrinkly like I should be. My hair is still black as the night sky, with eyes to match. It's not gray, like it should be. I still look like I'm seven. The only difference is I'm healthy. But my big brother changed. He looks like he's 68, with gray hair and everything. But I know in my heart he's still the young man with hair as black as mine and eyes that look like chocolate.

Ever since I was four, I was very sick. My mommy and daddy were very sick too, but they didn't last as long as me. And my grandparents died in the attack on Pearl Harbor. So it was just my brother, Aalona, who took care of me. My big brother was very brave, and he took me too all sorts of doctors all across Hawaii, taking up odd jobs to pay the doctors and get from one island to the other. But none of the doctor's knew what was wrong with me. Many people wanted me quarantined, in case whatever I had was contagious, but Aalona wouldn't have it. He always said, "If it was contagious, I would be sharing her pain." And Aalona was only fifteen years old.

Each day I grew weaker and weaker, until I could no longer make the trips. So Aalona rented a little cabin and he put me into the biggest bed in the cabin and sat in a chair by my side. He would only leave to get me water. I loved my brother, because he was there for me the most. He was the one who sat by my side until I slowly started drifting away, not able to answer his questions of 'are you alright?' I saw it in my brother's eyes. He had lost everyone else in his life, and he was bracing himself to lose another. The last thing I remember saying to my brother was, "Aalona? Aalona? Are you there?" He had jumped up and grasped my hand.

"Yes, yes I'm here, don't worry! What do you need?" he asked eagerly, ready to do anything if it meant I'd be ok.

"Will you pinky promise you won't isolate yourself like with mom and dad? Will you grow old and get married and have wonderful children?" I asked.

I could see the tears in his eyes as he answered, "Yes…yes I will. And I'll name my daughter after you." He kissed my forehead and then I was dead.

But I woke up in a strange room. With a strange man, who had blond hair and bright blue eyes, and he said, "Hi, I'm America. And you're Hawaii now."

_…on August 21, 1519, I became Hawaii the 50__th__ state of the United States of America. What's the one thing I regret? Nothing. Aalona kept his promise. And my niece did indeed inherit my name. And there was nothing to worry about._


End file.
